


Wait for Me In the Sky

by floralhappening



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Child of Apollo (Percy Jackson), F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Meetings, Implied Will Solace - Freeform, Music, Past Relationship(s), Rollerblades & Rollerskates, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:13:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29826861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralhappening/pseuds/floralhappening
Summary: She straightened to look him in the eye. “Something new? You’ve never been skating before, stranger?”“No” was all the Olympian could say before he was being pulled towards a counter off to the left. The woman’s hands were not as soft as her voice.--When Apollo stumbles upon a lively roller rink in Austin, Texas, he doesn't expect the sun to already be in there. Apollo and Naomi's first meeting.
Relationships: Apollo/Naomi Solace
Comments: 1
Kudos: 11





	Wait for Me In the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place late 90s/early 2000s. The title comes from Harry Style's "Golden."

She left streaks of gold behind her as if she were the one meant to live forever. The power of her heart and mind drew Apollo to her, and as she thanked the sun and basked in its glow, he was the grateful one. It was not a coincidence that she resided where she would not be without the sun’s warmth. 

It was because of this, Apollo found himself in a roller rink. One tucked away in a forgotten section of Austin on one of the last nights before autumn. Music from the nineteen seventies wound its way through his ears, and he found himself once again in awe of the speed at which humans forget the past. They skated in circles donning gaudy, exaggerated styles of what came so naturally to them a short time ago. Warm lights laced their way in lazy flowers across the floor, but as Apollo’s eyes settled on her, she was the brightest thing in the room. 

The alternating reds and yellows danced across her tawny brown skin. As she soared through the crowds, she laughed a tone so sweet. He never would forget that laugh. Apollo’s gaze followed curls that defied gravity, but he looked away quickly as she met his eyes. A smile started as she linked her arms with a girl near her. It was on her second lap around that they reconnected and she picked her way over. Lacking his usual confidence, Apollo had not found himself this nervous for many decades. 

The music crooned a tune asking someone to show me the way and he felt himself asking the same thing. When she stopped, the hem of her pants and the scarf around her neck rebelled for just a second. She asked a question, but Apollo forgot to listen. Beating him at his own game, she leaned across the low dividing wall to whisper, “I’ve never seen you here before.”

Her voice washed a sense of calm over the god; it felt like sunshine itself. “Well, I’m honored to see you now,” he replied. 

Her voice now at full volume, she drawled, “Why, thank you. It’s Seventies Night, didn’t you hear?” She pulled on the sleeve of his simple t-shirt. His face flushed. 

“I’m afraid I did not. I simply came hoping to try something new tonight.”

She straightened to look him in the eye. “Something new? You’ve never been skating before, stranger?”

“No” was all the Olympian could say before he was being pulled towards a counter off to the left. The woman’s hands were not as soft as her voice. The eclectic carpet was worn with tire tracks, and the baseboards and panels along the walls were scuffed with years of kicks and memories. Kids pushed past the couple to get to the main floor as a new song started. 

“What size shoe do you wear?” She asked, shaking him out of his thoughts. He rattled off a number that seemed to satisfy her. While he had infinite knowledge, the mortal classification of shoe sizes was not a priority. 

Now with a pair of brown and orange skates in hand, she led Apollo to a row of mismatched benches where a jacket that matched her jumpsuit covered several bags and pairs of sneakers. They added his own shoes to the pile, and he had to remind himself that he was a god before he fell on his face. What a shame that would have been. Overwhelmed by the smell of the musty building and active bodies, the sun god centered himself by looking into her eyes once again. He wouldn’t discover what color they were until the next time they met, for they reflected almost clear in the neon lights. 

She grabbed both of his hands and led him gently forward. Apollo rolled with her and mimicked her movements. It would have been simple to be instantly perfect as he normally was, but she seemed to take joy in teaching him how to glide across the warped wooden floor. She told him about her friends that were several yards ahead and of life in Austin. She spoke and all he did was listen, taking in the highs and lows of her alto voice. “So, stranger, what’s your name?”

Apollo found comfort in the fact that he could say my godly name and it would not feel out of place in the ambiance the two had created, but he found himself hesitating. Hand in hand, they slowly rounded the far end of the rink passing a stage set with guitars, drums, and small amps that looked like they were actually from the nineteen seventies. He swallowed his fears and said, “Apollo.”

The two paused at the bar running along the wall. She took the time to pull her hair back into a scrunchie adorned with sunflowers. “I’m Naomi.” She blinded him with a smile before taking off again. Apollo let himself be better on the skates this lap but still faked a stumble or three to have an excuse to reach for her. Each time, a blush like celestial bronze found its way to her cheeks. Upon reaching her things they met a group of four women she had described several laps ago. They laughed with her while eyeing him from the side. 

At the stage, speakers crackled and a microphone screeched to life. A burly man in too much tie-dye grumbled, “Naomi Solace to the stage.” Several musicians filed into their positions. Naomi chuckled to her friends before turning back to the floor. Her hand ghosted across the god of music’s chest as she kicked off. 

Still in her skates, she climbed the stage and grabbed the sunburst guitar to sing a song that would eventually be passed from mother to son, and Apollo would hear it again in an infirmary far away. But that would not be for many more years. Now, Naomi had the god of poetry captivated with her words. The spotlights caused the golden tinsel in her hair to shine like solar flares. She sang with love and fire like he had not heard in millennia. Never before had Apollo seen someone’s family name suit them so well. 

When she made her descent, people cheered. Many exchanged pleasantries with her like this was a common occurrence. It was obvious she felt at home in this space, but all things must come to an end. People abandoned their skates at the counter and disappeared into the night. Her friends moved to do the same. 

The god of many things sat with Naomi as their skates were replaced with Reebok’s and the magic of the seventies faded into silence; only now did she look anxious, as if she did not just bare her soul on stage. The two noted at the same time that her friends’ backs were turned. Apollo’s breath hitched as a piece of paper was pressed into his hand and a kiss to his lips. At this moment, the immortal found a small part of his heart yearning to be human, for he never wanted this feeling to end.


End file.
